


My Bald Romeo

by Whisper132



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-21
Updated: 2006-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The humble and somewhat frustrated beginning of Jackal and Hiyoshi's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Bald Romeo

Scrimmages after your team was already out of the competition were a bit pointless, Hiyoshi thought, but the idea was Jirou's – a not so cleverly disguised ploy to play his beloved Marui-sama – and therefore endorsed by Atobe. Hiyoshi suspected Atobe was trying to find an excuse to play Sanada and was using Jirou's cheerful desperation as an excuse. Whatever. It meant Hiyoshi got to play so it was fine.

"Don't embarrass us again," Gakuto said as they watched Rikkai exit their bus. Even by Hiyoshi's more lax standards, the bus was grimy. The only decently painted portion was the giant R emblazoned on the side, and even that had graffiti devil horns on it.

"When you can win a game, you can talk, senpai." Hiyoshi wasn't taking crap from a loser, particularly a loser who kept acting like a winner. Gakuto was just pissed that he and Yuushi were Doubles 2 now and Shishido and Ohtori, who won their games and weren't being assholes about it, were Doubles 1.

Gakuto turned up his nose and trotted away to hide behind Oshitari, who lazily slung his arm around his doubles partner and started mumbling something. Hiyoshi never understood what Oshitari said. His speech was full of big words that flowed together to mean nothing. Hiyoshi didn't blame the Kansai-ben like Atobe did, only the weak-minded would use an excuse like that. No, Hiyoshi blamed the indecipherability on the fact that Oshitari was just an idiot who read a dictionary. He probably didn't know what half the things he said meant so he slurred everything together and hoped no one would notice.

"Hiyoshi!" Atobe snapped his fingers and pointed to the court. "Go."

If Atobe treated him like a dog one more time, Hiyoshi was going to show him the less friendly side of enbu. A foot up the ass would wipe that smirk right off Atobe's face.

No, on second thought, it might increase it. Perhaps a foot in the face, then. Atobe's perfect nose all mangled and crooked would be good fun. He'd have to spend a bucket-load on plastic surgery to fix it. That would show him.

Hiyoshi stalked to the court and waited for his opponent, the bald kid who played doubles with Marui, to finish shaving his head. What kind of crackpot brought an electric razor to a tennis match? Freaks. Rikkai was a bunch of freaks. They won their matches, though, so he really couldn't say too much about it. You could do anything you wanted to so long as you kept winning.

"I'm ready." The bald kid buffed his head with a towel and picked up his racquet. "Let's play."

"Your serve." Hiyoshi tossed a tennis ball over. Per Atobe's order, Rikkai served first. It was supposed to pass for hospitality. A sensible breakfast spread would've been a better show of good will, but no one ever asked Hiyoshi what he thought, which was fine. They were too mentally stunted to understand the subtle honor code by which Hiyoshi lived his life.

"Kuwahara to serve!" The black haired Rikkai second year boomed from the judge's chair. "Kick his ass Jackal-senpai!"

"Akaya, referees are supposed to be neutral," Kuwahara said before serving. The serve was light and easy to return. No wonder Kuwahara-kun played doubles. He was crap.

If he were Atobe, Hiyoshi would tell Kuwahara to 'be serious' and slam a straight ball at him to set the game in motion. If he were Shishido, he'd let the ball go by and tell Kuwahara that he wasn't going to play unless Kuwahara started to make it worth his while. Hiyoshi chose, instead, to serve the ball back equally as light because, unlike his hasty teammates, he recognized bait when it was dangling before him.

Games passed with no event: game Kuwahara, game Hiyoshi – back and forth until Hiyoshi was bored of the pansy ass serve and volley that they were passing as tennis. At three games all, he slid into his enbu stance.

"We're done stretching, then?" Kuwahara did a few quick lunges. "Good. I was getting bored."

In his chair, Kirihara yawned. "Hurry up, I want to play Atobe."

Kirihara would get to play Atobe when he sprouted wings and go go danced atop the gymnasium. The Rikkai kid was going to be playing Kabaji in all likelihood.

"I'll make it quick." Jackal rubbed his head and gave Kirihara a thumbs up.

Cursing on the court was unseemly, or so Hiyoshi's mother said. He settled for glaring and hitting a drive to the corner, earning him a point.

They rallied on, Jackal still with his wrist weights and, judging from the favoritism to his right leg, some ankle weights as well. That was fine. Hiyoshi didn't care so long as he didn't lose. Even if he did lose, it wasn't horribly demeaning. This was Rikkai. No one would blame him for losing to Rikkai.

Except himself, of course.

"Jackal-senpai, this is taking _forever_ ," Kirihara grumbled. "Just beat him already."

Hiyoshi's shot missed and hit the referee stand. Oops.

"Nice shot." Kuwahara said, laughing. "Takes a lot of accuracy." Perhaps Kuwahara wasn't such a bastard after all.

"Your serve," Hiyoshi grumbled. Jackal was going to win if he took this game.

"Going somewhere?" Kuwahara rocketed the ball past Hiyoshi.

"Just tired of playing _you._ " No, no banter. Banter was a distraction. Hiyoshi shook his head and refocused. He could turn the game around, all he had to do was catch Jackal's serve and maintain concentration.

"Atobe and Sanada are supposed to play after this, think we should…"

"We're leaving!" Sanada's voice shook the courts. "Everyone in the bus!"

Kirihara scrambled from his perch and bolted. Kuwahara served. "It's almost over," he said. "And I'm having fun."

Hiyoshi would be having fun if he were winning, too. "Fine with me."

The game ended in less than two minutes.

"They left," Kuwahara observed, shrugging on his jacket. "Bastards."

Had Hiyoshi known Jackal was going to accept, he wouldn't have offered to give him a ride home. It was a moot point now, of course, considering they were in the back of Hiyoshi's mom's car, headed to Kanagawa on a congested highway.

"Do you boys want to stop for a snack?" his mother asked, peering at them in the rearview mirror.

"I don't want to be a bother," Kuwahara said, smiling. "You're doing so much for me already."

Hiyoshi wanted to tell him to cut the crap and accept the hamburger. He had to say, "We insist, Kuwahara-kun," instead because his mom didn't like it when he swore.

"Call me Jackal."

Was the Rikkai kid trying to cop a feel? Nah, he was probably just stretching. "Sure."

"Wakashi, manners." His mother tsked her finger at him and Jackal snickered.

"You can call me Wakashi if you want." He kicked Jackal to make sure he knew it was a lie. "What would you like to eat?"

"There's a nice curry place off the highway two exits up."

The rat probably planned this from the beginning, ditching his teammates to get a free meal from the rich kids. And damn it all, what the hell was his hand doing on Hiyoshi's thigh?

Hiyoshi slapped the offending fingers away and glared. Jackal just grinned. "I really enjoyed our match today Wakashi-kun. I hope we can play again sometime."

"I can pick you up whenever you'd like, Jackal-kun. Wakashi has so few friends."

Homicide didn't sound like a bad option. Chopping off Jackal's squiggly, wandering fingers also sounded rather nice. Maybe Atobe knew someone who knew someone who dealt in such things. Atobe wouldn't tell if it meant Rikkai was one man down. He might even think it was funny.

"Thank you ma'am, that's very nice of you." The smile Jackal flashed Hiyoshi's mom was reminiscent to a squirrel right before it bit you and gave you rabies, all cute and fluffy and innocent. Akutagawa-senpai used that look a lot. "Maybe Wakashi-kun could spend the night this weekend. My parents are going to be out of town and it'll be lonely in the house."

"I'll drop you boys both off, then. I can come back with Wakashi's things." Hiyoshi's mother clapped her hands in glee. "Isn't it exciting Wakashi? Your first sleepover!"

Hiyoshi wasn't sure if he really wanted the hand to leave his lap now. It was kind of nice, in a disgusting way. "Yeah," he managed to say, even though he wanted to say something along the lines of, "Harder you fucking asshole." His mother would ground him if he said that, though. Possibly for life if she found Kuwahara's hand in his lap.

Jackal removed his hand and took a small notepad out of his tennis bag. In neat characters he wrote, "If you had a boyfriend, you're breaking up with him. You're cute."

In the cover of the seat, Hiyoshi gave him the finger before snatching the notepad to write, "Using another guy's mom to get a date is pathetic," in not so neat kanji.

Jackal mouthed, "It worked," and replaced his hand on Hiyoshi's thigh.

Hiyoshi sighed and leaned against the door, staring out the window as they pulled into the parking lot for the Dancing Queen Café. Beside him, Jackal hummed quietly to himself.


End file.
